


Love at First Fight

by WeCouldPretend



Category: Arthurian Mythology, Arthurian Mythology & Related Fandoms
Genre: Galahad's too moral for an assassin, I almost feel bad, It's also a timer, M/M, Mordred needs some morals, Spies, it's kinda complicated, mentions of child abuse, poor boys, secret agents, they both need some sleep, they're out to kill each other, well it's Mordred so that's kind of a given
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 05:45:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2954438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeCouldPretend/pseuds/WeCouldPretend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when two infamous agents are sent to kill each other? What happens when they don't realize who they really are? Agent Grailknight and Agent Usurper are in for an interesting fight, that's for sure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love at First Fight

        Galahad smiled charmingly at the bartender, a sleek blond cat in a flattering black dress. She blushed and handed him his drink. This party was really over the top, even for the world famous Cornwalls. They were known for throwing extravagant parties, and tonight was no exception. The music was loud, the guests wild and the room dimly lit. Galahad was hardly here for pleasure, in fact, he was having a horrible time. It was on one of his many assignments from the MI-6. They'd received intel that a certain operative from the other agency was here, and on an assassination mission. He was here to stop that at all costs, and to take the other man in. He'd read all about this man, Codename Usurper, and he was supposed to be a very dangerous person. Not that Galahad wasn't fully capable of taking him on, He'd been trained by the best. Now here he was, scanning the crowd, searching for the man with a drink in his hand, and a firm resolve in his heart.

        Mordred sat in the darkest corner of the room, casually sipping his rum and coke, waiting for his chance. He had orders to kill a certain guest tonight, one who had taken out one too many of his fellow operatives of late. Not that he minded, he generally thought everyone in his agency were assholes and deserved what they got. He didn't have a choice. He was bound to the Agency by his bitch of a mother. He'd become a weapon at the age of twelve, and hadn't really looked back since. Now his mission was the only respite he received from her iron control. So he took the hardest, longest missions he could find. Sadly , this put him in the path of a certain MI-6 agent, Agent Grailknight, or so they called him. He always found who he was looking for, and he never failed a mission. Or that's what the file had read. Mordred grinned slyly, knowing that this was the one mission that the Grailknight would not return from. His eyes wandered over to the bar, and spotted a dashingly handsome blond man, wearing a nice suit and ordering a drink. Target acquired. Mordred had studied that face from every angle, knew it from any direction, or as well as he could know him from the file and the photos he had been given.  

        As the night wore on, Mordred tailed his target closely, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. It wasn't until the Grailknight had gone to his room that Mordred saw his chance. Following him to his hotel room, Mordred waited until the door was almost closed to stick his foot in and wedge it open as he drew his gun and shove the door open, his gun pointed straight at the figure still standing in the hall. To his utter surprise, the other agent's gun was out and pointed at him. They stood in a stalemate for a moment, staring at each other. Then each registered the burning on their wrists.

       "You were sent to kill me?" Grailknight asked quietly.

       "You are my mission." Usurper replied carefully.

       "So finish it." Grailknight sighed, flicking the safety back into place on his pistol before dropping onto the carpet. "I can't. Not now. I cannot complete my mission."

       Usurper stared at him in disbelief, emotions warring with his years of training.  His training screamed at him to finish it, to pull the trigger and kill his soul mate. His heart, his conscience rebelled against the it, refusing to even consider the idea. Gritting his teeth, he mimicked the other's actions. He watched the other Agent's shoulders visibly relax as the gun hit the floor.

       "I will not have your blood on my heart." Mordred whispered, staring up at his soul mate pleadingly.

       "Nor I yours." The other murmured, extending a hand to the Usurper. "The name's Galahad."

       Mordred took it with relief, gripping it tightly as he responded. "Mordred's mine."

       "It's nice to meet you, Mordred. Please come in."  Galahad gestured to the rest of the hotel room and gently pulled Mordred forward. Suddenly they were standing very close together, with storm grey eyes meeting poison green ones again. For a moment, the tension built between them, threatening to snap until Galahad slowly reached up and brushed a hand against Mordred's jaw.

       "You look absolutely exhausted." Galahad sighed, slightly sad, slightly exasperated.

       "Yes because you look so much better." Mordred snapped halfheartedly, leaning into the warm touch. Galahad chuckled quietly, and stroked his thumb against Mordred's cheek.

       "That's actually your fault, dear. I've been studying your file all night." Galahad smirked, laughing at the irony of it all.

       "That makes two of us." Mordred hummed, and experimentally threaded his arms around Galahad's neck.

       "From the first time I opened it, I was attracted to you. So striking, so very elusive. I knew you were special." Galahad whispered, wrapping his own hands around Mordred's waist and pulling them both into a close hug. For a moment, they both took comfort in the tight embrace. Then Mordred started to let Galahad take more and more of his weight, nuzzling in close and warm to his soul mate.

      "Alright, bed time. We'll figure out what we're going to do about this in the morning." Galahad laughed, helping Mordred over to the bed and out of his formal clothes. It was all Mordred could do to keep from yawning absurdly as his soul took care of him. He was gently settled under the comforter. It felt awkward and cold until another body pressed against his. He contentedly curled into Galahad's arms before pillowing his head on Galahad's shoulder.

      "G'night Mordred," Galahad whispered, and the other responded in kind, curling tighter as Galahad pressed a kiss to his forehead.


End file.
